


The Next Adventure

by Anonymous



Series: Zedd's Anon works [1]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Aged-Up Morty Smith, Fantasizing, How Do I Tag, Incest, M/M, Pining, Possessive Rick Sanchez, he's whatever age you want, rick is soft for morty, stalker-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25040245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Rick gets up early to plan his next adventure with Morty. He gets lost in thought about Morty. His Morty.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Series: Zedd's Anon works [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813510
Comments: 4
Kudos: 132
Collections: Anonymous





	The Next Adventure

Rick had seen it all. He’d done everything (and everyone). The universe was dull now. Go out and do something useless in a galaxy that pretended to be more exciting than it was. Come home and tell everyone you’re inventing something pretty important when it’s actually a new way to toast bread efficiently. 

It was routine at this point. The only thing he looked forward to was getting high and blackout drunk. After all, when you could do everything, what was the point of anything? 

But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? 

He still forced himself out of bed and went to his beaten up desk in the garage. It was always early in the morning when everyone else was supposed to be sleeping. The garage would be dark aside from the dusty desk lamp he’d kept meaning to clean. It wasn’t as important as literally anything else, though. 

It dimly lit up the room. Tools and old inventions lined the walls. Everything seemed worn and old aside from whatever was being built on the desk. 

Rick himself was lit up like a pale ghost caught in the moonlight. His hair was left unbrushed and wild. There were slight bags under his eyes from lack of proper sleep. He could fix that with some shots of caffeine straight into his blood system, though. 

He always came down here with a goal in mind and tonight was no different. 

He adjusted in his chair and sat still for a moment, listening for signs that anyone was awake. He didn’t want to get caught. It would be easy enough to pretend to have been working on something or act like he was asleep at his desk. He wanted to be ready.

The chair creaked with his movements. The house was otherwise silent aside from the dryer. It was churring softly. He had no idea how long it had been going but it didn’t matter. It was probably Morty’s anyway and Morty was easy enough to trick. 

The dumb kid probably made a mess of himself by jacking himself off. 

His mind wandered. How messy was Morty? What did he sound like? How would he feel, pinned down, squirming as he begged Rick’s name? 

‘Stop,’ he scolded himself. ‘He’s your grandson. He likes girls. He wouldn’t enjoy it, you creep.’ 

Any excuse to stop those thoughts was a good one. But, fuck, was it hard. His mind threw arguments back at him. 

What if he didn’t care that they were related? Or that there was such a huge age gap? What if he’s gay? What if he loved being claimed by his grandfather? 

He shook the thoughts away. It didn’t matter. 

Rick sighed, drowning those thoughts away with more scientific ones as he leaned down to open a drawer. It had a normal lock-and-key lock on it. Except there was no key. 

When Rick touched it, a blue light came from it. It scanned his fingerprint while a needle came from the keyhole. He didn’t react, downing his flask as his finger was pricked. 

The fingerprint and blood sample proved his identity and dimension number. 

The drawer opened in response. Inside was mostly empty. There was only a single, thin folder. 

He took it out and placed it on the desk as if it were the most precious thing in the multiverse. He took a quick breath before opening it. 

Hyping himself up was a habit. He did it everything he did this, like what was inside was life-changing. To him it was. 

When it opened, pictures of Morty spilled out. All of them were of the teen smiling or laughing or both. He was having fun, genuinely enjoying himself. There was a picture from each good adventure, some of Morty just around the house. They all shared a common factor. 

Morty was clueless he was being filmed. Rick was always secretive about the pictures, knowing Morty would be suspicious if he wasn’t. It’s not like Rick was sentimental. It was different with Morty, though. He wanted to always remember. 

They were a guilty pleasure of his. 

His long, slender fingers traced Morty’s smiling faces. His Morty. Even if Morty didn’t realize it yet. He didn’t even have to know. It didn’t matter if he knew. He was still Rick’s. He would always belong to Rick. 

There was another thing in the folder. A little notepad. There were checked off activities and places covering the first page. He flipped to the second and there were dozens of unchecked ones. The unchecked items on the list went for pages, almost halfway through the little book. Each was the basis of an adventure. 

He wanted Morty to see everything. Even if the task was horrible, Morty’s reaction to the places was worth every injury and inconvenience. Morty’s never-ending enthusiasm and wonder worth everything. 

He browsed the list, imagining Morty’s reaction and sense of wonder to each item. The little ooh’s and aah’s of wonder and that look of awe quickly turned into lustful moans and gazes of lust. He got lost in his fantasies. Sometimes Morty would be tied up and his for the taking. Sometimes he’d be bent over the couch in plain view of the whole family. In each, Morty’s screams of pleasure would be accompanied by sweet stutter’s and desperate ‘I love you’s. 

The kid stirred something in Rick he never felt before. Something he adamantly denied even existed. He craved more. 

The sound of a stair creaking broke him free of his delusions. In a moment of panic, he quickly shoved the pictures into the folder and put it back where it belonged. The drawer locked with a slam. 

Footsteps approached until they were outside the door. Rick’s first instinct was to haphazardly put his flask down and pretend to be asleep. It worked before, it would work now. 

The garage door opened a second after his head met his crossed arms. Someone entered. The footsteps were soft and light. He immediately recognized them as Morty’s. The boy always trod carefully when everyone else was asleep. 

His footsteps briefly stopped. He must've noticed Rick 'asleep' at the desk.. He’d fallen for the act once again. 

The dryer door quietly opened and clothes were being moved. Rick could only imagine inside were blankets that had been soiled by Morty’s fantasies. What did Morty fantasize about? The thought of Morty masturbating to thoughts of him sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. 

Those soft footsteps approach him. He felt the weight of a warm, fresh-out-the-dryer blanket placed around his shoulder with a little pat to ensure it stayed in place. 

“You need to take better care of yourself, Rick,” Morty mumbled, not wanting to wake him. 

His little hand’s brushed through Rick’s hair and down his arm a couple of times. The elder’s heart melted. 

Morty left as quickly and quietly as he came. Well, aside from accidentally slamming the dryer door. Rick had to force down a chuckle at the slip-up. 

Morty was clumsy and naive, but dammit, he loved every bit of it. He loved the kid. He knew he did, even if he denied it. 

Beneath the chuckle and the sweet thoughts, though, his heart ached. It took everything he had to not chase his grandson and kiss him silly. 

He pulled the blanket closer, absorbing its fleeting warmth and he fought those urges. 

The next few hours were wasted away with fantasizing and drinking and thinking. 

Thoughts and fantasizes that could never be acted upon. 

His heart ached.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, I wasn't sure how to tag this and I did this in one sitting, help-


End file.
